It was the first of October and the peak rut for elk. I was lucky enough to draw a controlled tag for Unit 50 over by Mt. Borah. Thumper and I had been scouting for the previous two weeks, and I had installed a motion-activated trail cam watching a wallow and water hole at the base of the mountain where a herd of thirty-five elk were feeding every day around 4:30 in the afternoon. There was a dandy seven by seven herd bull that the trail cam photographed every night for a five-day period. From where we set up with binoculars and spotting scope, I never saw him and wouldn't have known he existed, if it weren't for the camera. When I took the rolls of film in to Mad Dog Gallery to have them developed, Karen asked me about the majestic bull, wanting to know if I had taken these photos at Yellowstone National Park. I responded, "Heck, no, these are in our backyard. I drew a tag, and Thumper and I are gonna get'im."

     I thought I'd try something different, mountain-man style. So I decided to take my muzzleloader and put on my leathers like Jeremiah Johnson. I grabbed my possibles bag and powder horn. Thumper and I headed up before daybreak, with a backpack full of provisions. We were planning to make a day of it. Before we headed to our hunting site, I loaded with 115 grains of black powder and a 350 grain hollow point. As we were hiking toward the waterhole, Thumper got excited. There was something in the wind. A 600 pound black bear with a white star on his chest was getting his morning drink. Thank goodness Thumper was on a leash or there would have been a big fight. It was all I could do to hold her; she was pulling on her leash, and her hair was up on her back. I whispered, "Down, girl. We don't want to ruin the morning's hunt."

     The bear spotted us and immediately began waddling up the game trail that showed heavy signs of animal traffic. We had uncovered the main path to the waterhole. "Thumper, I think we have found our spot." We followed slowly in the bear's tracks.

     We set up at the base of a huge pine tree about 20 yards uphill from the wallow which sits in a lush green meadow. I loaded a fresh roll of film into the trail cam to record the day's events. Then we got comfortable; I leaned against the trunk with my muzzleloader across my lap, and Thumper curled up and rested her head on my leg. She had had enough adventure for a while. The morning was uneventful; time was dragging. Thumper and I had lunch to break the boredom. A squirrel showed up in the tree nattering at us because we were trespassing in his neighborhood. After tossing him some scraps, he seemed to settle down, content that we were paying for the use of his tree.

     With our bellies full and the sun beating down on us, we both dozed off, and I started snoring. ZZZ, ZZZ, ZZZ. The giant bull elk must have thought I was another bull invading his territory and attempting to take over his herd because, while I was snoring, the trail cam captured an entire roll of film of that bull running down the trail, through the meadow, and past the water hole, charging us. All of a sudden the squirrel started chattering at the elk, as if trying to warn us. The bull let out a giant, screaming bugle, and the decibels were so great that Thumper and I woke up startled. My muzzleloader fell off my lap and went off, in a cloud of smoke, KABOOM!! I was too groggy to react, and I couldn't get my muzzleloader reloaded in time to take a shot. Thumper started baying as she does when her sleep is interrupted. Her baying and the gun report spooked the monarch and he took off with his herd, in a cloud of dust, trumpeting his retreat. Needless to say the bull got away with his entire herd of cows. That trophy was not to be mine, but I got another trophy. The photos from the trail cam were so incredible that I won the annual photo contest at Mad Dog Gallery.

     When I showed my hunting buddies selected photos with me, Thumper, and the bull so close that I could have hit him with a rock, they asked, "That's the biggest bull we've seen in 20 years. Why didn't you get him?"

     Embarrassed to tell them the truth that I was asleep on the job, I quickly responded, "Well, I really thought about shooting him, but then I decided that Thumper and I are sooo good at finding and bugling these big ones, that we would wait until next year when he's bigger. Maybe he'll be the new world record by then." Thank goodness Thumper will keep my secret.